


Crazy Little Thing Called Love

by child_of_the_dawn



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley Invented Love, Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), God is the original shipper, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, No beta: we die like men, This show is the best thing to happen to 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 09:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19944196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/child_of_the_dawn/pseuds/child_of_the_dawn
Summary: Crowley was not a virtuous man. In fact, he went out of his way to stifle virtuosity in the world and entice a little sin in its stead. That being said, Crowley had to admit, when it came to Aziraphale, he had the patience of a fucking saint.





	1. Epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> The italicized names refer to whose point of view the section will be in.  
> This is set right after the final episode when they dine at the Ritz because we all know after dinner they went to the bookshop to get stupidly drunk and ended up confessing their undying love for each other.

_Crowley_

Crowley slips his shoes off and sinks further into the sofa, laughing almost hysterically into his drink. He can't really remember the last time he'd felt so comfortable and free, but surviving Armageddon and near certain death would do that to a demon.

"Angel, dear Satan, please stop it. I thought over the centuries you'd finally learn some taste in music, but you're hopeless," Crowley says, amber eyes shining with mirth.

Aziraphale halts the record and huffs, glaring at Crowley.

"You just don't like it because it's not bebop. Well, what do you want to listen to then?"

"Anything, literally anything but this."

"Oh alright then, let's see what we have," Aziraphale says, turning his back to Crowley and perusing his collection of records, faintly humming under his breath.

Crowley sets his drink softly on the table next to the couch and, hand resting on his cheek, allows himself for the first time in a while to stare unabashedly at his best friend.

6000 years had dragged by seemingly in the blink of an eye.

In all those years, Crowley had experienced both beautiful things and ugly things. He had seen civilizations fall and seen others rise in glory, had seen people crumble in agony and soar in ecstasy.

Crowley had been there for it all: every single grotesque and pulchritudinous moment of humanity.

Only one thing had ever remained unchanged in Crowley's life and that was the fact that he loved Aziraphale so fiercely sometimes he was so afraid it would drown him.

Aziraphale had always been the great constant of his life. No matter where he was, the thought that the angel would be right there with him incited a warm and comforting feeling in his heart demons probably weren't supposed to feel.

Crowley was not a virtuous man. In fact, he went out of his way to stifle virtuosity in the world and entice a little sin in its stead. That being said, Crowley had to admit, when it came to Aziraphale, he had the patience of a fucking saint.

From that first moment they had stood side by side on the Wall of Eden, Crowley was utterly and hopelessly gone.

So after literal eons of pining, on this night, just this once, Crowley wants to look at the angel he loves without reservation or fear.

And by God, is he beautiful.

_Aziraphale_

"Aha! I think I've got the one," Aziraphale says turning around.

"You're going to love this one, my dear, it's got--."

The angel stops abruptly mid-sentence and fumbles with the record in his hands.

He thinks his heart might've stopped and if that is the case, he should probably be concerned, but a second later it skips a beat and then thuds painfully fast in his chest.

He wonders if he's somehow accidentally been transported to another dimension because Crowley is lounging on his couch with the softest grin lighting his face and Aziraphale thinks he might actually faint because Crowley is the single most gorgeous being in existence _andhecan'tbreathe_.

After years and years of self-control, Aziraphale curses his heart for betraying him so easily.

He flushes and violently resists the urge to melt under Crowley's gaze, suddenly flashing back to the first time he had looked into Crowley's eyes.

Aziraphale had, unfortunately, had the displeasure of meeting many demons before Crowley. 6000 years ago, standing watch on that wall and glimpsing out of the corner of his eye a demon sauntering his way, he'd sighed preparing for the unpleasant and awkward silence that usually followed demon-angel interactions, and resumed his watch.

To Aziraphale's chagrin, it seemed the demon, Crowley he said his name was, had noticed the lack of a flaming sword by his side. He looked up into Crowley's eyes, fully preparing to give some sort of foolproof excuse, and froze for the smallest of a second. At least that's how it seemed to Crowley, but for Aziraphale it felt like hours had gone by.

Crowley's eyes were dancing with amusement and Aziraphale was absolutely entranced.

Angels were cold creatures and demons were angry creatures and that was how it had always been.

But Crowley....Crowley was neither of those and in that moment, Aziraphale felt an uncomfortable realization growing in his chest: that an angel and a demon, adversaries by creation and foes by nature, were more akin to each other than to their own sides.

Then the conversation continued and Aziraphale forced that realization, that love, so far down it took 6,000 years for it to resurface, stronger and harder than ever.

Now, here they were, on their own side and Aziraphale was so horribly afraid.


	2. Euphoria

_Crowley_

Aziraphale turns around again quickly and starts mumbling nervously about some random thing in an effort to mask his emotions but it's too late.

That single minute Aziraphale had allowed himself to look into Crowley's eyes and just let himself feel had been enough for Crowley to see the same affection and passion he had tried so hard to fight reflected back at him.

Crowley stands up quietly but deliberately and makes his way to the other side of the room where Aziraphale is still, almost hysterically, talking about Chopin.

He draws his arms across Aziraphale's waist in one smooth gesture and pulls the angel tightly towards him. He gently guides Aziraphale's still outstretched hands towards him, linking their fingers so their individual bodies seem to blur into one.

Crowley softly kisses Aziraphale's head then lays his head down on his shoulder and exhales contentedly.

"Tell me to stop, angel. Tell me to stop and I swear I will."

Aziraphale remains quiet.

Crowley loosens his arms around Aziraphale's waist and turns the angel around until they're face to face.

He looks both afraid and determined, his eyes darting all over Crowley's face as if he's committing every single detail to memory.

Crowley gently cups Aziraphale's cheek and leans in slightly, but stops. His lips are mere centimeters away from Aziraphale's lips and he wants to kiss him so badly but a sudden crippling fear makes him pause.

What if he misread the angel's eyes? What if this ruined their friendship forever?

He couldn't bear losing him, at least not to this, to his own selfish love.

Crowley goes to move his hand away from Aziraphale's cheek, but before he can, the angel sighs exasperatingly, weaves his hands through Crowley's hair, and crushes their lips together, closing the distance between them.

_Aziraphale_

Aziraphale is burning.

It feels like every single nerve in his body is sizzling with desire and he shudders and deepens the kiss, an inexplicable need to just get so close he can't tell where his body ends and Crowley's begins.

Crowley melts into Aziraphale's embrace until only the angel's arm across his waist is keeping him upright, but then abruptly breaks the kiss.

A small whine of protest escapes Aziraphale's throat, and Crowley stares at him with sheer awe. 

Aziraphale opens his eyes in confusion, breathing still heavy.

He wants to ask Crowley what's wrong but he's completely lost the ability to form a coherent sentence.

He lays a hand over his still thundering heart and wonders if going into cardiac arrest from happiness was possible.

He raises his head to meet Crowley's gaze, the expression on his face comically identical to the demon's.

Finally able to organize his thoughts, Aziraphale whispers hoarsely "I think we need to talk my dear," and sits down on the couch, patting the place next to him as an invitation.

Crowley nods dazed and sits down next to the angel, curling his hands tightly into fists like he's desperately trying to control himself from doing something.

"Aziraphale," he breaths softly and reverent.


	3. Serendipity

_Crowley_

Was he dreaming?

Had that really just happened?

Had Aziraphale _really_...?

Crowley felt like he was about to faint.

His heartbeat was in his throat, beating so fiercely he thought it might violently burst out.

Aziraphale suddenly grasps one of Crowley's hands and lays it over his heart.

In shock, Crowley lets him, relishing being able to touch the angel so freely.

"As an angel, it's my duty to love all of God's creations equally and I've always tried so terribly hard to abide by that duty. But it seems I've failed miserably, my dear, because this heart you feel beating fiercely under your palm is unequivocally and irrevocably yours and yours alone. I love you Crowley, please say that you love me too."

A stifling silence permeates the room.

With a dawning expression of heartbreak, Aziraphale slowly lets go of Crowley's hand and hunches his shoulders, curling into himself.

Crowley comes out his shock-induced stupor and huffs amusedly.

He takes Aziraphale's hand and puts it over his heart, mirroring the angel's earlier gesture.

"Angel, you really needed to ask? Of course I love you. It's never been a question. I've loved you since the moment I met you on that wall 6000 years ago. This heart, embittered as it might be, beats only for you."

The angel glows with unrestrained joy and draws Crowley in for another bruising kiss, both of them giggling helplessly into each other's lips.


	4. Trivia: Love

God does not play dice with the universe.

It's rather more like a very complex game of chess, in which the very pieces that are her greatest allies are also her greatest enemies. Such is the nature of humanity and of angels and demons, for they were all made in her image and God is a notoriously dichotomous creature.

However, for all her numerous strategic errors, after so many years, her plan had finally come to fruition and it was, dare she say it, beautifully ineffable.

The moment she had seen an angel a bit too mischievous for his own good extend his wing to shield a demon a bit too honorable for his own bad, God had heard opportunity clanging with all its might. She could make amends, could help her lost and begotten oldest children remember the gift she had bestowed upon them.

So, with one smooth movement, God cracked her knuckles together and got to work.

Now, 6000 years later, as she presides unseen over the small country wedding of an angel and a demon, she feels a sharp shiver of anticipation and satisfaction.

Honestly, the path to this day had been so mired with conflict, she'd been afraid it'd never come.

But now, the first domino piece had finally fallen and there was no halting the chain reaction.

As the couple share a brief kiss amidst a chorus of cheers, God throws her arms up in the air and whoops victoriously.

A vibrant rainbow bleeds from her fingertips into the clear, blue sky.

So the first union, of countless more, of an angel and a demon came to pass and for the first time in a while, the world was simply sublime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the characters included belong to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, as well as my soul, which I think I must've sold sometime in my life to get a novel/show as amazing as Good Omens. The chapter titles belong to BTS, who have also slowly consumed my daily life, and the main title belongs to Queen, one of the greatest bands to ever grace the face of this planet. I hope you guys enjoyed the fic; constructive criticisms are always welcome!


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